Obsolete Deception
by Kimchi Poutine
Summary: Whatever world you live in, there will always be shit to deal with. Modern AU "series" - Just everyday life things, no adventure arc.
1. Let's hurt a lot

**Modern AU where the characters are a little older, a little sadder, and go down the path of adults generally viewed as tedious by the hearts of youths.**

* * *

"You betrayed me."

It wasn't said aloud, but she might as well have. Wild-eyed, tremor in her hands that she stuffed into her pockets, her hunched figure emanating fear and horror almost palpable that no vocal expression was needed to emphasize the obvious.

She looked like a lost child, or a person who had just been shot and was still processing the fact that there was a gaping hole in her body. She wouldn't look up but from his viewpoint, her eyes were dry. She wasn't crying, not yet.

He called her name, uncertain of what to do. That is, if the situation could be salvaged at all. She did not respond, her mind adrift in a thousand different directions. Guilt closed his throat, his voice nearly cracking as he called her again. A tentative hand reached for her arm.

"No…please…"

Terror; her eyes screamed terror as she recoiled. Something broke inside him as she retracted her arm with no less dismay than if he had wielded a branding iron. But he had done much, much worse and she knew it. With each utterance of her name that escaped his lips, she seemed to withdraw further into herself. Each syllable raked into her ears, deriding her weakness that had cast her into this deplorable state.

Whatever remained of her common sense finally kicked in when her vision went blurry. He must not see her cry, he could _not!_ Did she have enough money to get a cab? Cab, bus, it didn't matter; she had to leave. Did she have enough strength to walk to the stop? Yes, she had to.

Her legs shook and wobbled, prompting him to grab her by the shoulders.

The myriad of distraught pain and unbearable feelings—all cut short and irrelevant in the one element that remained when there was nothing else she had left: anger. The rage usurped her mind, surging power into her limbs. He acted as if he retained the right to touch her. The ugly truth was right in front of her and yet he had the **audacity** to maintain the façade that he cared?

"Don't touch me." She attempted to swat his hand out of the way.

"No, you can't—"

He dared to tell her what to do, even now?

The swirl of rage kicked her mind into a frenzy that could construct no cohesive words to voice her turmoil. Only base instinct empowered her to simply _act_ what could not be said into calm words and higher reasoning. He was wrenched aside, stumbling a few steps before righting himself. She finally looked at him, and he almost wished she hadn't. He saw the eyes of a cornered, feral animal—nothing but anger and panic. She was _scared_ of him. She **loathed** him.

Meandering away, she commanded enough semblance of mind to walk properly, at least. She wasn't some hormonally love-struck teenager sobbing dramatically over broken infatuation with shiny tears trailing behind her as she fabulously ran away.

She was one of the crowd as dozens of other conventional members of society jostled past her, traffic lights changed, and vehicles honked by. All part of the normalcy that was now shut off to her as she finally managed to hail a cab.

Retaining the last scraps of her poise till the bedroom door clicked behind her was one of those feats the outside world would never know how to fully appreciate. She was alone, at last, where no one could see how wretched she was.

She was alone, where there was now nothing to distract her from herself. Collapsing, her eyes turned blank with the impact of the treachery descending upon her. This was silly. She was stronger than this; people let her down all the time! She just needed some time to get over it like she always did. Her hands had to stop shaking eventually.

Her phone was locked in seizures, twitching like a corpse in the last heaves of life. New text message. Sender: 내사랑 . 내사랑 sent you a new message on Kakaotalk. Buzz after buzz after buzz. She wanted to throw the phone out her window. But she wasn't the glamorous heroine starring in a dramatic opera. She was a pathetic girl who should've known better, could've been smarter, would've evaded this mess if she had been a little more…should've, could've, would've…

She was a damned fool. She was a victim of her blind faith as well as his duplicity. She was a girl who lay on the wooden floor, knowing that if she cried, she wouldn't be able to stop.

When Rena came in with the groceries, her cheerful whistle faltered into a stifled noise of horror.

"Eve!" Carelessly placing the bags on a nearby table, she rushed to the limp figure sprawled on the ground, the pitiful girl who was now faintly convulsing. Was it from shock, overwhelming emotion, or sickness? _"Eve!"_

Her hands were icy and her lips were blue.

* * *

She couldn't remain catatonic forever. Shock, then denial, then acknowledgement of pain in small measures. But Eve had no reserve in what she did, whether it be work, love, or pain. The sting of perfidy sliced into her, and she felt it—oh El, she felt it. Rena didn't know which was worse: the scalding tears that drenched her friend's pillow, or the whimpering and moaning of pain that interrupted the nights. Whichever it was, there would always be a hot cup of chamomile tea outside the greyed door.

Manage your own pain, don't bother Rena. How she wished to sleep for eternity! On some days she drank until the cup was empty; other days she couldn't take a sip because it was too hot, too fragrant. One time Rena brought her orange tea but that only reminded her of when he took her to the field of tulips where the sunset they had watched was almost as beautiful as the shades of her eyes, he said.

Sleeping draughts were like anaesthetic. But they always wore off too soon, and it was so hard to listen to her body before it could speak. The terrible thing about betrayal was that it wasn't inflicted by enemies, but those she trusted. This time, it was someone who, a week ago, she had thought of marriage, without revulsion.

El, no, no…every memory she had with him, from the wild adventures they had to the tender and most intimate moments between them were now corrupted with the sting of his perfidy. Pain was the lamp she couldn't turn off so she could get just one night of repose, and whatever sleep she could snatch was shallow, placeless, and felt worse than jetlag when her eyes wrenched open.

Could she bring herself to walk past the flower shop on the fifth street again? He had given her a single rose on their third date because he "didn't want to scare you off on the first, and the second one would mean I have a real chance." When she told him she wasn't a fan of roses, he didn't falter.

"I made chicken stew, Eve." Warm voice, gentle as the hands that set a piping hot bowl on her nightstand. Soft fingers brushed against the matted hair, silver and wet with sweat. Or tears? "Anything else?"

She shook her head. Her voice, and heart, couldn't be trusted.

When Rena wrapped her arms around her in a warm hug, Eve let her rest on the elder's shoulder. Rena hugged her differently than he did. He would hug all of her and whisper in her ear that if she were any smaller, she might just disappear in his arms. But Rena hugged her like a sister, kissed her gently on the forehead, and left with an "I'll be back soon."

Eve was a person who valued her privacy, but right now, she wished she wasn't left alone. However, she couldn't be a selfish bitch to want to keep Rena with her. She knew the pot of chicken stew would go to Raven, a man who was almost worthy of Rena as a long-term partner who was currently down with the flu.

 _Click_ went the lock of their front door, and then silence. In the solitude that was both relief and agony, she settled back on the bed, her tears gliding where they could.

She had blocked his number, there were no messages now. She didn't trust her to stay away if the notifications kept popping up, reminding her like taunting needles.

Minutes crawled by, hours seemed endless. Nights provided no sleep, and days were worse when she had to pretend to the rest of society that she was still a fine and productive member of it.

In some ways, Rena knew Eve more than her own parents. Photos, videos, and text messages were wiped out from her phone, tablet, laptop, USBs. The polaroids they had (in the digital era, he would sometimes take shots to have something tangible in his hands. One of his many quirks…and charms, one would think.) were taken care of by the elder.

"Do you…want to burn the clothes and presents he gave you?" Rena asked, tentative. "I understand that's what people do here after things are over."

If there was indeed a brick fireplace, then it would have been fitting. To watch the flames crackle and burn away everything, just as he had so casually thrown what they had and cherished, it would give some measure of pleasure. Unfortunately, the apartment they lived in lacked brick fireplaces and setting anything on fire indoors would raise more than a few complaints.

So that was how they ended up in an abandoned parking lot at two in the morning, crouched in front of a smouldering blaze of clothes and other mementos. Some of the pain seemed to mingle with the inferno. Rena had used Raven's extra-strength blowtorch for the occasion, and by the time they were finished, a black smudge was branded onto the ground amidst scraps of ash.

He called Rena after a little less than a week. He just wanted to talk to her, to let him explain. How was she doing?

"Do not involve me in your attempts to hurt her further." She was polite, though it took a sharp ear to notice the undertone of cold contempt towards her listener. "She is not in the mind to listen to deceit, especially from you."

[At least tell me how she is. Look, it wasn't supposed to be like this! If you'd just let me talk to her—]

"—which is unacceptable given what has happened. I may not understand the whole situation and honestly, I don't care. What I _do_ care is that you've hurt her and she does not want to talk to you just now. Good day." _Beep._

All of her friends must've got the memo, too, because none would pick up. The few who did…well…the one named Aisha yelled expletives at him that would make a sailor blush, and when Rose picked up, all he could hear were gunshot sounds.

Days turned to weeks. Weeks were comprised of days where she could smile again without her face looking like it was about to crack. She was surrounded by friends who upbraided "the little fucker" in a vehement verbal storm of outrage and glared daggers at him were he unfortunate enough to cross their path. Rena would always make the cup of tea, and more often than not, the little cup would be in the sink, empty. Raven offered to lend her his blowtorch "for defensive purposes."

Yes, there was much to be happy about, and Eve was astonished that she had such a tightly knit network of support and trust. From the politest of sympathies to the most genuine concern, she was grateful for it all. In the last girls' night out, she even chuckled when Aisha made a sexual pun that sent everyone howling.

Ah, the tequila burned her throat, but she revelled in the sensation. He didn't like it when she drank too much—said that it would make her prey to wolves pretending to be men—but fuck that now! She had her friends!

And yet…

There were bits of him that no parking lot fire could burn away. His lips, soft and ardent against hers, then tracing her jawline, sometimes tenderly, sometimes roughly. The same lips that whispered sweet nothings into her ear, continuously deluding her into believing that what they had, was real.

He had told her, among many words crooned in her praise—empty mockeries now—that she was everything he never knew he wanted but would never let go.

But no, he had only wanted one thing, and he had succeeded. She had been spectacularly played. Eve Nasodia, the scion of the Nasodia clan known for their technical prowess and intellectual genius, a huge letdown and an even bigger fool.

She would get her mind to match her body's resolve. It seemed ludicrous to even think that one day, someday, she would look back on everything and not feel the cut of his memory slice into her. But, for this moment, the pain

* * *

 **Ha, these stories are becoming less and less fanfic-ish, and more original stories with the characters being plugged into the plotline at my convenience. I actually have a collection of Elsword Fanfics—drabbles, wishful chapters, and the like, all incomplete. It was my dream to complete them all, but the Elsword Fandom has changed…quite drastically.**


	2. Even good decisions feel shitty

"Cute kid, isn't she?"

"No."

"Now, don't be like that. She's really not that bad."

Not that bad; as if it was a sample taken from a charcuterie platter of some tasting menu. That would've been better. Him and her, out at a classy restaurant, sipping on fine wines, then having ice cream as they strolled around the city hall, enjoying everything they should while living in the city as they dreamed for the future.

Instead they were here, trying to play with this child; a child that wasn't even theirs.

"Come on, babe, she's just shy. She just needs time to open up."

Dopey grin, eyes clear with affection; it was always like this. One person in the relationship always had to be overly sentimental towards the most trivial things and the other equally stoic. Granted, it was what attracted them to each other in the first place, but today it was really pushing it.

The child in question was, well, peculiar. It was the product of his estranged cousin and a bohemian psychic of all people. The unfortunate couple was claimed by a very preventable disease for which they refused actual treatment in favour of "herbal remedies" that would "cleanse their aura". It was pretty funny, albeit morbid.

It was less funny when there were talks of who would get custody. He had no siblings; his one other cousin was old and the child's paternal relatives were varying levels of unfit. Even the most incompetent courts wouldn't assign the kid to the psychic's extended family: most unemployed, all in poverty.

"I'm busy."

"The dishes can wait, I'll do them later. Look, she drew a picture of us."

With a resigned sigh, tired eyes lined with shadows surveyed the supposed masterpiece. It looked as much as anyone would expect from a child that age: scribbles and squiggles with blotches of color that dripped off the paper. That would have to be cleaned up later.

"That's nice."

"Yes, that's a beautiful drawing, Laby, it's beautiful." He cooed as he brushed her hair. The child's face broke into a grin as she shyly handed her drawing to him.

"Thank you, dear. I will treasure it."

Once, such a sight would have soured her so much that it would've instigated another argument. Their first argument over the matter: three months ago. It was also the first time they went to bed still angry at one another. Now as she looked, a spark of the old resentment screamed again over her growing apathy.

The last dish clinked onto the drying rack. Everything in the kitchen was spotless. She let down her hair that had been pinned up all day.

"Finally done?" He looked up. "Good, come play with us. It'll be fun!"

No, it wouldn't. She had tried dozens of time to ingratiate herself to this brat, solely for his sake. This little demon that dropped its dovelike ruse as soon as her new paternal figure was out of sight and turned its tantrums on her and did everything she could to make her life miserable? She had to entrust her beloved dog to a friend after the child had tried to "teach it manners", nearly poking out an eye. The child upended a table on her and called it an accident. And today…well, eventually one straw had to break the back, didn't it?

"Yes, play with me and daddy!"

She whipped around towards the child, finally meeting its eyes for the first time today. For one, raw moment, the elder's eyes were filled with abject horror. Her disgust increased tenfold when she saw his face was contorted with delight at the unexpected title.

And the child? Well, the child was smiling.

She backed away as one would from a loathsome toad and into their room, reaching for her coat. She didn't say another word as she grabbed her bag and headed out.

She had to move faster. She didn't want to hear the last few words, but did anyway:

"I…I'm sorry…" Laby's voice, thick with tears, crocodile tears.

"No, don't cry. Hush, Laby. She's just tired from work, she's not angry at you…"

She sighed. The more he doted on the child, the more he disapproved her own actions. She didn't care about that, not now. The door closed behind her with a soft _click_ and she walked to the elevator, pressing the button with reasonable force.

She was not a child to be taking out her emotions on inanimate objects.

Stepping out of the condo, she walked towards safe harbour. How ironic that the place she just left she had once considered her primary haven.

* * *

"So he seriously plans to get custody of the child?" Rena stared. "And it called him _daddy?"_

"Don't call the child 'it', Rena. It's demeaning." Eve sipped her espresso.

"No, she's right. It did call him that but I'm sure as hell not going to be the 'mommy'. It's disgusting and frankly I wish that she never entered our lives."

It was a good thing that this group of friends was tight-knit and trustworthy.

"I can't believe it. He actually wants to start a family so soon…how long has it been since your student loans were paid off?"

"A year." She slammed her glass down. "After all the saving and interest and bullshit…a year. Just one year of finally enjoying life for a change before he wanted to ruin it all."

"Dumbfuck." Rose muttered.

"I get it, his dad died early, he always wanted to be a father, he's ready for everything…but not like this!"

Rena gestured her to quiet down. "You don't want a family?"

"In this economy?" Rose shrugged. "Not a surprise."

"No, I do." Eyes previously dulled with ire softened with thoughts of a vibrant future that had been discussed and encouraged in better times. "I've thought of it, and I think I do want children in the future, raise them right, make a home."

"But…"

"…not with that child." She finished her friend's sentence. "Is that so wrong?"

The girls sat in silence for a few moments. None would condemn their friend.

"It's not," Eve replied, "because you tried. You're not obligated to love a child that isn't yours."

"Still," Rena hesitated, "It's just a little girl. She's not responsible for her parents' faults."

"We're not blaming the kid for existing, Rena. We're blaming Ara's stupid boyfriend for thinking that she'll instantly love the kid and they can make one big happy family like an orange juice commercial."

"I…right." Rena nodded. "You're not ready to have children yet and she isn't even yours."

"Aisha's going to kick herself for not coming this time." Rose said. "So much tea is being spilled."

"Figuratively…and literally. No matter, she has her own problems to deal with." Eve slid a napkin towards Ara. "It sounds like this is an irreconcilable difference between you two."

"He won't give up on her." Ara admitted. To Eve and Rena, her expression turned apologetic. "I'm sorry for leaving Eun with you two. I hope she's not causing too much trouble."

"Not at all." Rena's face brightened. "She's a beauty and very well trained. I had never seen a Jindok breed before; I heard it's very hard to see one here."

"She's shedding a lot." Eve lightly chimed in. "But you shouldn't worry about that. She'll stay with us for as long as you need her to, so focus on your problems first."

"Thanks, guys." Ara finally smiled. "But enough about me; I don't want to hog the limelight. How're things with you guys?"

* * *

"You're late."

"Where's the kid?" She noticed the toys strewn about, the dirty dishes in the sink; messes she would no doubt have to clean again.

"The matron took her back. We're not her legal guardians yet."

 _We_. As if both of them had agreed to parent the child.

"We need to talk," he said.

"Yeah, we do." She brushed aside a crayon on the ground, sending it rolling. "We really do."

"You don't want Laby." It wasn't a question.

"And you do."

"She's an orphan." He appealed. "I know you never liked her parents and frankly, they weren't great people. But she's an innocent and we can't just leave her to wither until she ages out."

"What makes you think we're ready to care for a child? Both of us have jobs. Who's going to make sure she goes to school and does her homework? Have you thought about books, medical bills, and the rest of the expenses a child her age would need?"

"We can make that work," he insisted, "if only you're willing to try. How can you just disregard her completely?"

Not. This. Shit. Again. "Really. You really think I haven't tried?"

"You're not doing enough!"

She stared, her face hot as if she had just been slapped.

He went on. "She's just a little girl without any family. Don't you feel sorry for her? Her parents are dead and we're the only ones who are capable of caring for her. You told me you wanted a family, too!"

"I do!" She snapped back. "I do, eventually! Not now, when we're both in our twenties and barely adults! We're still figuring ourselves out and now you want to throw in a child?"

"It's not just about 'a' child, is it?" His voice was harsh. "It's Laby herself. You never liked her in the first place."

"You saw her, holding around that 'magic mirror' and talking psychic nonsense, just like her father. She's nearly seven and still has an imaginary friend. Her temper tantrums destroy everything around her. And that's all the stuff that you manage to see!"

"We can grow her out of it. With her past, of course she would have an imaginary friend to cope with her trauma. Nisha is imaginary but it influences her to be positive."

Ara shook her head in disgust. "What about the crap she pulls when you're not around? Like hurting Eun? Throwing her juice, table, anything she can get her hands on?"

"I'm sure those were accidents," he said calmly, "and even they weren't, it's normal for a child her age. When she grows, things will be easier. You're being unreasonable, Ara."

Ara, ready to hurl another lash of fury, cut short at his last sentence. So, that's how he saw her now, was it? He was enamoured with the child; she realized nothing she said would change his mind on adopting the child. All those months of arguing, crying, promising to do better and understand…what a waste. What a bloody waste.

She loved him; they had been dating since third year university.

"I see." Her voice was cold and flat.

"You have to understand, Ara, that a child is different from raising a dog, but similar in some ways. You're patient with Eun, love her and feed her. But she's just an animal. Laby's a girl, and you'll find raising her to be more rewarding."

The lines in her face smoothed. All traces of rage disappeared, which he saw as slow acceptance. "Please, babe, try to understand. She just needs time to adjust. I know it's a tough period now with our jobs, but we can get through this. We can get her used to Eun. I'll do better. So please, don't…don't make this hard on me."

"I'm tired." She headed to the bathroom.

"Yes, sleep on it. You'll feel better tomorrow."

They slept on the same bed, a thousand hearts apart.

Usually they could sleep in on Saturdays, slapping together a brunch when the sun beamed through the window. He could make decent pancakes, but it was usually her that whipped up interesting things through the recipes that popped up on her feed: breakfast fondue, eggs benedict, apple-stuffed French toast with grapefruit glaze.

She loved cooking. She loved cooking with him, trying new recipes, using him as a willing guinea pig for her culinary experiments.

When she woke up in the morning, everything was cold. A chill whispered up her spine as she heard the door open and two pairs of feet patter inside.

"Babe, I'm home! I brought a guest so we can all eat together!"

His head poked in, laughing, "You sleepyhead, get up! Laby's hungry and I brought some groceries you might like."

He was just forcing the child upon her, upon all their activities that was specifically for them. Her head seared with pain and she heard the roaring of her own blood.

But she had never lost her temper in front of the child. No, that was not a victory she would give to the girl.

So she arose from bed, her fury restrained only to her eyes, which her bangs covered for the moment.

After washing her face and drying off, her face was placid. Her eyes were serene, unfathomable.

"Come on, we're hungry! What can we do to help?" He asked eagerly.

"Nothing, dear." A sharp ear may have detected echoes of strain, but to the good-natured Chung, he only heard fatigue. "I'll be done quick."

Buttered toast, eggs sunny-side up, a quick breakfast hash, and a special sauce made with herbs from her homeland. Chung loved it. It wasn't one of her more elaborate meals, but it'd do.

"Now, Laby, let's pray." Chung said. "Praise be to…"

"…to…"

"to the…"

"…the…El…Lady…"

"For this meal…"

"Meal…"

"...and may be blessed forevermore." Chung finished, and they tucked in.

"Mmm." Chung, as usual, scarfed everything down with relish. "Do you like it Laby?"

Laby pushed her plate around, looking hesitant. "Nisha doesn't like it."

"I'm sorry to hear that. What is Nisha's favourite meal?"

"Nisha likes candy."

"But what about you, Laby? A growing girl needs to eat, and Ara made this meal for you. Could you eat at least an egg?"

"Can I have ice cream later?"

"Only if you eat your breakfast, dear."

"Then, Laby will eat. But Laby doesn't like that sauce. It smells funny."

"Did you at least try it?"

"It smells funny! Nisha doesn't like it either!"

Ara stood up, putting her clean plate in the sink. Yesterday's dishes were untouched. A quick brush of the teeth, her favourite hairclip pinned, and she reached for her coat.

"Where you going?" he asked.

"Out. I told you before, remember?"

"What do you mean?"

"I'm going to visit my brother."

"Oh, right, right. But Laby has a free day today, and I was hoping that we could spend a day together out at the park, explore downtown…" he trailed off.

"When was this decided?"

"Well, it's a little spur-of-the-moment." He scratched his head, looking hopeful. "I just picked her up this morning."

Yes, I know, she thought, I know that much. "Sorry, but I promised my brother."

He sighed. "All right. But try to come early, okay?"

The door closed behind her.

* * *

"My brother." She threw her arms around him, releasing pent-up emotion. "My brother, I missed you so much."

"As have I, sister." Aren held her close and frowned. "You have become thin. What ails you?"

"It is nothing. I will not burden you with trivial matters."

He turned and gazed. Few could withstand the penetrating stare of Aren Haan; it was part of what made him a splendid lawyer. "Sister Ara, your eyes are swimming with tears and your eyes hold resentment. Tell me who wronged you and I shall exact the revenge the eldest sibling will bear. But first…"

The familiar fragrance of incense, the cushions with gold embroidery, and the wooden table that now carried snacks, her favourite wonton soup, a plate of fried dumplings. Aren knew how to make a place feel like home.

"Eat, you will feel better." He gestured. "It has been months since I have seen you last. I am sorry that my last case took me out of the country but I am here now."

She blew her nose, having cried heartily. "Do not be sorry. I have simply made many mistakes."

Aren listened to his sister's story with a face that grew colder and colder. When she finished, he nodded, sipped his tea, and set his cup down.

"If you have any self-respect and sense, you would leave that scullion at once."

She winced. She had thought of it, yes, but to hear that be said aloud felt like a shock. But her brother could hardly be impartial; though he had always treated Chung with polite kindness, it was only because of her that he bothered at all.

"But you do not condemn me for not loving that child?"

"The child is blameless—as are you." Aren folded his arms. "But this boy, he invalidates your feelings in favour of the child's, he forces the child into the home and relationship you share, and blames the child's faults to circumstance. A child may be the product of their environment, but every child is a small person developing into a big person. They can make decisions, however small, that will become important."

She sighed. "I wish he could understand I'm not ready for a child yet. I feel like a terrible person for not being able to accept her as readily as him."

"It sounds as if the child is stunted." Aren mused. "She refers to herself in third-person, still has an imaginary friend well over the expected age limit, constantly craves attention, has trouble socializing with her peers…" he whistled. "If he were to get that child's custody, she will need a lot of help. The therapy alone…" He now looked at Ara. "Sister, forgive me, but this is too much."

"…"

"Do not misunderstand. I do not doubt your ability to raise a child." He reached over and clasped her hands in his. "But we are the only family we have here. I cannot bear to watch you suffer this under an uncaring boyfriend who neglects your needs."

"I…I know…" She was crying again, but he had to press her. This was a path that even if it held success, no matter how elusive, had a steep cost.

"Sister, can you understand my feelings?" He rubbed her back in soothing motions. In his mind, he was only solidifying a decision that was waiting to be made.

"I love him." She wept pathetically.

"I know. But it should not be like this."

It was a raw moment of weakness that Ara seldom showed, but she finally lifted her head. Her cheeks still had tear tracks, and his heart wrenched.

"What do I do now? The condo, the lease…"

"Don't worry," he said grimly, "we both have friends."

* * *

[Welcome to Moonbucks, can I take your order?]

"Very funny, Rose."

[I know. 'Sup?]

"Your friend, Edan. Can you give me his number?"

"Huh? Sure. Valak's going to kill you, though."

"I know he's gay, idiot. Just give me his number."

* * *

[Hello, Ara.]

"Hey, how's Eun?"

[She's fine. She stares at the door a lot. Misses you.]

"I'll come for her soon. Is the dog food running out?"

[We still have two days' worth.]

"I'll buy another bag and come tomorrow if that's okay?"

[Sure. I won't be home, though.]

"That's fine, I won't stay long."

[Okay. Listen, don't worry about it. Eun's doing a lot of good.]

"Is she?"

[She's intelligent, and Eve loves walking her. She's doing a lot better too, since the breakup. Gives her something to focus on.]

"That's good."

[Thanks. I owe you.]

* * *

[GREETINGS, friend!]

She cringed. "Why."

[It's a sunny morning, how can I not shout. Also, I'm still salty about last time.]

"You said you couldn't come, not my fault."

[Whatever. So are things getting better with Chung and the labia?]

She snorted.

* * *

[Hi, I don't take booty calls until 11pm. Please try again later.]

"Fuck you, Rose."

[Hm, maybe later.]

"Asdfgh, just…your friend, is he still looking for a roommate?"

[Eddie? Yeah, he's…oh shit! Is it finally happening?]

"Shut the fuck up and give me his number."

[Oh man, I am so going to be there for this.]

"No, you won't."

[Yes, I will.]

Yes, she would.

* * *

She was relaxed now, sort of. There were no more arguments (because she conceded to him every time), she did everything Laby asked whenever she was over (because she hated the noise), and cracked a smile whenever he or her said anything (because a smile placated people).

Amid all of this, he smiled in glowing approval. He went sweeter on the child, encouraging Ara to do the same.

Work was a way to de-stress. She enjoyed more of "happy hour". Her friends, some tracing back to university, were loyal and true despite their own problems.

For a while, even Ara could believe that it could get better. Chung, who had always argued and disparaged her, loved this happy family that, in his mind, Ara was finally coming around to. Laby was adjusting more, becoming Chung's little princess and even getting along with Ara. Maybe, just maybe, things would work and her contingency plan wouldn't be put to use.

"I've got a surprise for you," he winked, "so close your eyes."

She smiled. What was the occasion? She ran through her brain, coming up with nothing.

"I know you've been doing a lot for me—for Laby—so ta-dah!"

A candlelit dinner of spaghetti carbonara with a bottle of pinot noir; Ara had to admit, this was a nice and unexpected gesture. The last evening they had to themselves without arguments seemed to be…well, a long time ago.

So they ate, drank, and made merriment. Ara felt a surge of affection that only increased as he brought out the cups of vanilla pudding.

"I have even better news." His smile was so big that it looked as if to burst.

"Hm?"

"Here." He slid an envelope.

"What is this?" She stared at the contents uncomprehending.

"It's the application." He was beaming. "Remember how we were only providing respite care for Laby? I've applied to be a foster parent. The attorney said that would make it easier to adopt her in the future. Babe it'll be great…"

He went on talking. Why was he still talking? Her stomach recoiled as if it had suddenly ingested lead. All that she had sacrificed, all that she had endured, and he wanted to impose it with real permanence?

She was not angry, oh no. She was beyond that. She took deep, quiet breaths to calm the tremor in her hands and legs.

"I'm so glad you understand. Her school is far away and I don't want to change her environment completely. She can use the guest room, I'll drive her on Mondays and…babe?"

She finally rose up.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm done."

He cringed, dreading another lash of fury, but her face remained smooth. He had never seen such a cold expression in the almost-two years that they have been together. She quietly tucked in her chair. Her movements were stiff, as if her limbs were encased in ice.

"Ara, what…"

"I can't do this."

Great, not again, he thought. "Babe, we discussed it before, Laby is…"

"…a child that you want to claim. Go ahead, I won't stop you. But we—" She reached for a knapsack under her bed and slung it around her, "—are finished. I told you before: I'm not ready to care for a child."

"Ara—"

"I respect your decision." _Even though you could never respect mine._ "A truck will come soon to pick up the rest of my stuff. I found a termination clause, so you won't forfeit your deposit."

"Wait, how long have you—"

"I took care of everything else on my end." And, because Ara was human and couldn't help to be a little nasty, she threw in, "Have fun playing house with that brat."

She slammed the door behind him, feeling at once liberated and righteous in her savage triumph. What a beautiful performance! His stunned expression, after weeks and weeks of suffering, was exhilarating. She smashed the button, strutting out of the door past the apathetic receptionist.

She kept her head high until she knocked at Aren's place, and collapsed into his arms. Of course, she started crying, and of course, she couldn't stop.

* * *

Respite Care: Any time an orphan or a ward of the state is with someone other than their parent or the caseworker.


End file.
